With the disappearance of naps in our house, my patience is often worn thin by evening. I find myself too eager to reach for wine and continuously glancing at the clock. It's a shame, because I feel like it's cheating myself out of time with my boys. My oldest in particular, because he's usually the subject of my frustration by days end. It's during trying times like these, that we need a reminder of who we are and why we do the things we do. Whether a parent or not, life will throw you a bone every once in a while- you just have to be open to it.
Last night, after I heard Nash's door shut and Elliot walked out into the kitchen... it was immediately followed by a loud thud and a smearing sound. This is the sound of Nash throwing himself against the door, hands first... and sliding down to the floor in despair. It's bedtime.
Not long after, he asked for me and pleaded for me to come sleep with him in his big boy bed. How does anyone say no to that? I can't think of anyplace I'd rather be actually. I went in his room and laid with him for a while, singing every song in my nursery collection (keeping in mind my poor memory, too much wine and 30+ years since I've heard these songs) which I'm proud of. Finally Nash is near the end of his battle with bed. His eyes are heavy and his breathing is full of weight. I lean down and give him a kiss on his head and tell him "I love you"...
he sleepily responds "i love you so much".
this is perfection.